There was a pause, which Mrs. Dale would not break.
“I propose, therefore,” went on the elder lady, “to stay with you myself, at least for a little while.”
Mrs. Dale, who had remained standing, as her visitor did also, turned upon her quickly:
“That I will not put up with.”
“That is scarcely courteous, surely?”
“There is no question of lip-courtesy between you and me. You, and no one else, have been the cause of all that has happened, and I refuse, absolutely refuse, to stay under the same roof with you for a single day.”
In the mean time poor Mabin, frightened and uncertain what to do, had in the first place put her hands to her ears so that she might not play the part of unwilling eavesdropper. But as the voices grew too loud for her to avoid hearing what the ladies said, she made a frantic rush for the door, and presented herself, breathless, blushing, in the doorway.
“Oh, I—I can’t help hearing what you say!” cried she, glancing from the forbidding face of the visitor to Mrs. Dale, who looked prettier than ever in her anger.
“My dear, it doesn’t matter,” said Dorothy gently.
But the elder lady broke in: